Create and Question: The Artistic Process of Vini Meio

Create and Question: The Artistic Process of Vini Meio.

With a unique perspective since childhood, the artist discovered the need to express himself with questions beyond his worldview. And it was through graphic design that he found a language that allowed him to transform all observations into critiques of society's consumption and the superficial relationships of the digital age. With an exploratory approach, Vinicius highlights the handling of different materials and techniques to create reflective works - connecting stories through visual experiences.

How did your passion for art and graphic design arise?

I don't even know if I can describe what I feel for art as passion. It is a necessity that, in fact, costs me dearly. This necessity comes from needing to find ways to express the questions I had about the world around me. Today, I understand that graphic design offered me a visual language for this expression. It's ironic to think that I use knowledge from design precisely to critique consumer society and the superficiality of digital interactions. But perhaps it is this use of techniques with critical intent that shapes this 'passion', because it is through this junction that I express everything I feel in the face of the dehumanization experienced in the age of social networks and the virtuality of relationships.

• What is your artistic process like before creating a project?

I don't have a fixed process. Some works were born from a photo I had and wanted to remember, relive, reinterpret. Other works came from an object whose existence and function I questioned. And there are those I made to take advantage of a material and give a new value to something that would be discarded or forgotten. Some works I make in hours, others take me years. I stop, go back, forget, restart. I think that's the process: we look at the world after reading theories and start to see things we didn't notice before and, from there, we try to bring elements of what we see into reality. If I say that I draft, sketch, draw, and plan, I'd be lying. Life and art are too complex to be expressed in such a predefined production line.

• How has your living experience in SP contributed to the evolution of your outlook on art?

When I went to college, I moved to Bauru, in the interior of São Paulo. I was always very impressed with the sky there. It wasn't something I was used to seeing. When I traveled around the world, I always found myself looking at and photographing the sky. São Paulo has this, it has that cloud, that dome of pollution that prevents us from seeing anything outside of here. This city is a perfect microcosm of consumer society. At the same time that it exposes you to a diversity of possibilities, it traps you in the superficiality of many of them. My view of art has a bit of this, of someone who can do many different things, masters many techniques, knows many theories but who often feels trapped by what the 'market expects or accepts'. Living off art in Brazil and living in São Paulo are very sister experiences in this sense.

• What would you like people to absorb when they admire your works?

I want the audience to feel a mix of identification and strangeness, almost as if they were facing a distorted reflection of themselves. My works are an invitation to question our own memories and digital interactions, proposing an introspection about what we really are when we are disconnected from virtual validations. I hope the experience with my works sparks a reflection on human essence, untold stories, and the traces we leave amid the noise of the digital age.

• You are also a carpenter. Did this come as a necessity to complement your work or was it something you sought to learn?

I grew up amidst collectors and resourceful individuals. Both the Japanese side and the Italian/Spanish mix that formed my roots have a bit of this: on one hand, they keep everything thinking it might be useful someday, on the other hand, they cling to details, make things with what they have, and value what is handmade. I have a lot of that in me, and carpentry comes from that place of creating with what I have. I think today I use this skill of mine to explore the relationship between form, meaning, and function in a more tangible way. Art cannot be disposable, and if wood is a material that allows me to create art, carpentry is just another technique of expression.

• Your paintings cultivate experiences that express a personal erudition. Is it through this knowledge that you seek to impact your audience?

Yes. There is no other way. And, because of my training in design, I sometimes run the risk of being literal, almost an illustration of theory. That’s why we have to position ourselves between the theories and the works. But yes, each work ends up being a synthesis of my experiences and learnings. I like art that provokes, but that also brings some explanation. This aesthetic impact, which awakens curiosity and questioning is what I consider most valuable.

• Your trip to Bali in Indonesia, specifically to celebrate Nyepi, the Balinese New Year, was, apparently, an opening of horizons. How significant was this moment for you and for your career?

Nyepi has a very interesting history, the fact that, unlike other New Year celebrations around the world, it is not a date that tourists want to participate in, because, as you cannot go out or do anything on this day, they feel it was a wasted travel day. But this day for me was proof that myths and stories can indeed surpass the productivity and the consumer noise we live in. The airport closes. If a woman is pregnant, she sleeps in the hospital because she cannot travel on this day. Nothing is as urgent as deceiving spirits and ensuring a 'free' city for the coming year. No boss. No demands. For me, this experience reinforced the importance of telling stories, of producing art that creates new urgencies, that promotes pauses and reflections.

• We know that your arts are accompanied by texts created by your partner Juliana. What is the role of writing in your works?

I think this question coming after the story of Bali makes perfect sense. Stories have artistic power and the fact that Ju has shared so many experiences with me creates a strong connection between what I want to express with my works and the texts she creates. The stories expand the aesthetic experience and create a reflective trace. Often, when people see one of my paintings, they pay attention to technical details, such as the painting or the carpentry. When this work has a name, a text, and a story attached, those details merge into a whole that allows the expression of theories and worldviews without explaining them.

• If you could give one piece of advice to anyone, what would it be?

We live in a world with so much content that I would say it is time to be attentive to forms. You can receive the same information in two ways, and that will make all the difference. Therefore, I feel it is time to question our containers, our spaces, our references, our relationships, and how this shapes us, shapes our thoughts, our values, what we want, and what we are willing to do to achieve it. Perhaps I would invite people to recognize that it is not our human substance that is the problem, but the containers that force us to fill them with it.